Someone to Lose
by InHushedWhispers
Summary: When the safe life you've always known comes crashing down around you, can you ever fully recover? When Isabella Swan's life is turned completely upside down, can she find the inner strength to create a new place for herself in this harsh new reality, or will she lose everything to the darkness that now threatens to consume her whole world? BxE, AU, First Fan Fiction, All Human.
1. Chapter 1: A Timely Intervention

**AN: Hello everyone and welcome to my very first attempt at fan fiction! I hope that you will all share with me your thoughts and opinions on my story, and I accept any type of criticism as long as it's constructive! Just a few things to note before we begin. One is that I do not currently have a beta or any type of editor to double check my works so there will probably be a few mistakes here and there, so feel free to point them out to me so I may correct them. Second, I am currently a student so I will not have a steady update schedule, so I ask you all to be patient. I will update as quickly as I can, but school is my first priority right now. And lastly, a lot of my stories tend to deal with dark subject matter such as violence, death, rape and other subject matters that may be triggers for some people, so if any of these things distress you, then I ask that you read my stories cautiously, as you know what you can or can't handle.**

 **Well now that that's all taken care of, I hope you enjoy my first chapter! See you all at the bottom :)  
**

* * *

 **Someone to Lose**

 **Chapter One: A Timely Intervention**

 **EPOV:**

Letting the mahogany lid fall gently closed on my baby grand, I decided to call it a night and head to bed. Not much progress had been made, but that was no different than usual. These days I found it harder and harder to come up with anything original, or at least something that didn't sound too much like a funeral dirge. Swinging my legs over the side of the padded wooden bench I let my stiff limbs stretch out, grimacing as both of my knee joints cracked in protest.

We had moved to the dreary town of Forks when I was only five years old; me, my little sister Alice, and my Mother Esme and Father Carlisle. My father had been an up and coming surgeon in Chicago when he had gotten the call from Forks Memorial Hospital offering him the position of chief of surgery; an offer that he could not refuse. So there we had it, we became the newest family in a town in which most of its current occupants could trace their lineage back to its founding fathers.

Faded moonlight streamed in from the patio windows across the room, looking out onto the old fashioned wrap around deck that my father and I had spent an entire summer building when I was only fourteen. The house itself was a replica of an older plantation manor, complete with large bay windows, grand entrance room and walk out balconies connecting to every bedroom. My mother, Esme, has always been a huge fan of history and, combining her degree in interior design with her passion built our new home from scratch.

A study just off the main wing of the house had been turned into my music room. My baby grand piano sat in the far corner while various bookshelves, drafting tables, a couch and matching chair took up the remainder of the open space. Glass patio doors took up the entirety of the back wall, connecting my music room to the porch steps that led to the half finished backyard. A portion of the our backyard was dedicated to mothers herb and vegetable garden, a waste of space in my opinion seeing as how Esme Cullen didn't have a green bone in her body let alone a green thumb. She had yet to be successful at growing anything in the wet patch of dirt, which on the wetter days, was nothing more than a mud pit if you asked me.

The rest of the backyard was left empty, only a small decrepit gardening shed which one day would be turned into a greenhouse if mom had her way, which she usually did, accompanied by a pitiful looking fire pit surrounded by wooden chairs with the paint chipping off completed the current set up. It was almost laughable how pitiful it looked, but we had spent so much money on the house that even though we had been living here for twelve years, we couldn't yet afford to do a full makeover on the rest of the property. Mom and Alice both hated the backyard with a passion, but I kind of liked it the way that it was. They would often find me sitting out on the rocking chair just outside my studio with a book of music paper, trying to figure out the next stanza in a song. Wild and untamed the forest encroached further and further onto our property as the years went on, new plants and saplings growing where once there was just empty space, reminding me of the domination nature held over the world. It was raw and real, unapologetic in a world where we were always trying to make things perfect.

Rubbing the back of my head I glanced up on the clock on the wall surprised to see that it was a little past midnight, the time having gone by faster than I would have thought. It felt like I had been playing for no more than an hour or two when in fact almost five hours had passed since I first sat down at around seven that evening. A vague memory of hearing my sister Alice coming in the house having been out in Port Angeles before going upstairs for the night flitted through my mind before I shook the though free.

Making a quick circuit of the room turning out all the lights that my mom had doubtlessly left on for me, I made my way towards the door, flicking the main light switch when I heard a small thud coming from the back deck. Strange noises were fairly common place living on the outskirts of such a small town; all kinds of small critters or even the occasional deer found their way onto our property more than we would care for, but something felt different about this I made my way back over to the glass doors, holding my breath as I peered out into the darkness that consumed everything.

Nothing moved.

Shaking my head I laughed internally at my sudden onset of paranoia, before quickly double checking the locks on the door before turning around and heading to bed. However, before I could make it five steps I heard the same deep thud once more, followed by keening wail that I knew would haunt my dreams.

My heart suddenly took off like a jack hammer pounding in my chest as I raced over to the door, my hands fumbling with the lock as I tried to unlatch the door. Finally managing to twist the deadbolt free I stumbled onto the back porch eyes rapidly scanning the darkness for the cause of the cry. It took only a few seconds to locate the source of the sound, and another few seconds to wrap my mind around what I was seeing.

Lying mostly out of sight half on the cold ground and partially on the bottom half of the porch steps was a girl. Covered in only a ripped blue t-shirt that clung to her soaked figure, her pale skin seemed to glow with a surreal light in the moons harsh glare. Her legs were streaked with mud and her bare feet were a bloody mess. Dark hair covered her face from my gaze and I watched in stunned silence as her small hand trembled in the air as she slowly raised it, only to let it fall ungracefully back onto the solid wood of the deck, making a dull thud.

Spurred back into action by the small sound I rushed over to the girl, grabbing her around the waist and rolling her onto her back so she was no longer lying face down on the wooden steps. Sucking in a breath I hissed out a curse as I saw the extent of her injuries. Deathly pale and soaking wet the girl's entire front was covered in blood, the soft blue fabric of her t-shirt stained red with it. A small jagged rip in the right side of her shirt revealed the source of the blood. I wasn't a doctor but even an idiot knew a stab wound when they saw one. Whipping off my shirt with a curse I balled it in my hands before pressing it to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Knowing that I couldn't leave her here lest she bleed out and die, I did the only thing I could think of; I screamed for my dad.

"DAD!" I yelled, using my free hand to bang on the side of the house, the irony of such an act not being lost on me. I continued my assault, both verbal and physical until I saw the light inside of my parent's bedroom turn on, and heard his and my mother's concerned voices calling out to me in confusion and worry.

"I'm outside! Hurry, someone's hurt!" I cried out, my breath coming in ragged pants. Hours seemed to pass before my father was rushing to my side even though I knew it took only a couple of seconds to go from his bedroom on the second floor to the back door of the house.

Crouching beside me my father, still in his pajamas, took in the situation with practiced ease. His steady hands replace mine over the temporary bandage my shirt had become, and it was only then that I realize they are trembling, not only my hands but my entire body is shaking and I can't seem to get myself to stop.

"Esme!"Carlisle's strong voice calls out. "Get me my tool bag from my office, and then call the police. Tell them we have an injured girl here, and are in desperate need of an ambulance."

Shaking her head quickly in ascent my mother runs from her position in the doorway back into the house, and I listen to her footsteps as she races back up the stairs to reach my father's office where he always keeps a complete first aid kit as well as a few other medical supplies in case of an emergency.

With an efficiency born from a career in health care my father quickly assesses the poor girl, quickly feeling her neck for a pulse, nodding to himself when he finds it present. Next he lifts the makeshift compress off of her abdomen and inspects the wound muttering under his breath medical terms that I wouldn't be able to understand if I wasn't going into some form of shock. Looking down at the girl, I couldn't help but notice just how tiny and fragile she looked laying there. Her head was tilted to the side, her hair still covering her face in wet, matted strands. For some unknown reason the fact that I still hadn't seen her face bothered me. Reaching out being careful not to interfere with whatever my father was doing, I gently started to brush her hair out of her face, and froze.

The face staring back at me with glazed eyes was not one of a stranger, but one that I was intimately familiar with. It was a face that I had seen almost every day since I was seven years old. It was a face that I saw every day at school, a face that I had seen just six hours earlier. It was the face of my sister's best friend; my best friend Emmet's little sister; Isabella Swan.

"Fuck," I whispered, not able to take my eyes off her. Her usually deep brown eyes were glazed over looking back at me but not really seeing anything either, like she was stuck somewhere in her own mind, unaware of what was going on around her.

"Dad?" I whispered, hating how my voice trembled, making me sound like the child I suddenly felt I was.

"Hmm?" he muttered unconsciously, not taking his eyes off the wound he was gently probing. When I didn't respond right away he looked up and his eyes widen in shock as he too discovered the identity of the girl he was trying to save.

"Son of a bitch!" It was rare to hear my put together, always the professional, mild mannered father lose his shit and curse. If the circumstances were different I probably would have found myself laughing as he sprouted out a creative string of expletives that would have had even the most foul mouthed high schooler blushing, but as it were, it only made the situation that more real.

"Esme!" he cried out, a new desperate edge to his voice. "I need you now!"

My mother came whipping out of a the house a few moments later, a large black medical bag in her hands, switching on the porch light as she came out to join us. Motioning for me to put my hands back on my shirt and to apply pressure my father started to dig through the bag, tossing things he didn't need at the moment off to the side, and placing what he did need in his lap.

The harsh yellow light coming from the bare bulb hanging on the side of the house brought Bella's injuries into drastic relief. Her skin was so pale that she almost looked like she was made of wax. The blood that had drenched her front was beginning to dry and crust, turning her blue shirt black wherever it had made contact. Dark marks spotted her arms and neck, indicating where bruises would soon appear. I felt my stomach lurch and had to fight back a wave of nausea as I realized some of the marks were in the perfect shape of hand and finger prints.

A strangled sound had me glancing up to where my mother was standing. Her face had gone ghost white, her caramel hair a scattered mess around her head as she stood in her soft pick night dress trimmed in white lace, one are wrapped around her middle as if she was in pain, the other held up to her mouth as she looked on in horror at the sight before her. Bella had been best friends with Alice since they first met in elementary school. She had spent countless sleepovers at our house, and my mother had always been fond of her. To see her in such a state must be just as heart wrenching for her as it would be to see one of her own children in such a state.

I watched as my mother choked back a sob and came to her knees beside Bella's head, reaching out with one shaking hand to gently brush the side of her face. Almost on instinct Bella turned her head into my mother's touch, as if seeking more contact, but her eyes remained cloudy, unable to focus on anything. I doubt that she was even aware that she had done so. Letting out a deep breath, I couldn't help but take in the scene before me. I knew that in a better world I would have stopped myself from looking, but all the evidence was pointing to one thing, and I suddenly had to know if my worst fears were founded. Mentally preparing myself, I glanced down towards Bella's other half.

Her feet were covered in mud and dirt forming a hard crust around her ankles with leaves and other forest waste clinging to the souls of her feet. The mud and dirt stopped beneath her knees leaving untouched skin until it came to her inner thighs which were streaked and smeared with blood originating from the apex of her legs. My stomach revolted violently at the sight, and it took everything I had not to start vomiting right there beside her. As it was it was a near thing, and as I gained control of my stomach I looked up to meet the tear streaked face of my mother, the look in her eyes confirming that which was now only becoming evident to me.

* * *

 **So, what do you all think? Is this something worth perusing? Please review and let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2: A Fathers Guidance

**Hey Guys! Long time no see :) I apologize for taking nearly a year to finally come back to this story, but it has been one hell of a year. To those who have read this, and want to continue to read this, I thank you and ask for your patience. I will continue to work on and update this story, and I hope from now on I'll be able to do it in a more timely manner. For those who are just joining, I hope that you like what you have read and I hope to hear back from you!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: A Fathers Guidance**

Three Hours Earlier: Port Angeles WA

 **BPOV:**

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Alice asked for what seemed the hundredth time as we walked along the pier on the outskirts of the small port town. The busy hustle and bustle of daily life was beginning to slow down as shops prepared to close for the night, and the locals decided it was high time to head home for the evening. The last of the minuscule amount of sun that we got in the western peninsula was finally being conquered by the heavy clouds and darkness of early evening and the sent of ever approaching rain heavy on the air put a little extra speed in our steps as we made our way back from the small market that dominated the piers during the summer months.

"I'm sure, Alice. I wouldn't have agreed to it if I wasn't," I chided, lightly bumping my shoulder into the much smaller frame of my black-haired companion. Alice Cullen had been my best friend since the first day of grade one when we were seated together in home room. I had been living with my mother for the first six years of my life, visiting my father Charlie and brother during the summer months and every other holiday since I was a child. My older brother Emmet had allotted to stay with our father during their divorce, being a few years older than me and very opinionated, he argued until he was allowed to stay. I, on the other hand, was too young to really understand what was going on let alone old enough to have an opinion on the matter, and happily followed my mother to the warmer weather in Arizona where we lived a happy life. That is, until Rene met Phil and got remarried.

I had nothing against Phil, he was a nice guy I suppose, but once he was in the picture I kind of drifted to the back of my mother's mind until I was more of a nuisance than the daughter and best friends I had thought we were. It wasn't long after that that my mother asked my father for the custody arrangements to be changed, and less than a month later I was on a plane headed to Forks Washington.

I hadn't known anyone when I started school that year, my dad, brother and I having spent most of our time together doing family activities over the summers I visited with them than spending time getting to know the locals. I was the odd one out, and in a school with less than three hundred kids combined and a brother who was two grades ahead of me, I was dreading my first day. However, I never would have expected the explosive ball of energy in my life that was Alice Cullen.

She had already been seated when I first walked into that classroom so many years ago, lightly bouncing in her seat as if she were in bad need of a does of Adderall. Almost as if she knew I was coming, which was an impossibility since we had never met before, she glanced up at me as I walked in that room and waved me over as if we had known each other for years. Since that day, we had been almost inseparable, something that worked out well for everyone since my brother and hers soon became best friends; a side effect of our relationship we always liked to joke. It made things easier for Charlie, that's for sure, not having to cart both his kids around to five different places a day made things a lot simpler for the Chief of Police.

Eleven years later we were still thick as thieves. Although on the surface many people probably wondered what kept us together; her, full of endless energy, a social butterfly and comfortable in her own skin and me, a social recluse who spent more time alone with her books than engaged in conversation with other human beings. I probably couldn't explain it if asked, but what it really all boiled down to was the fact that we accepted each other as we were, and held no expectations towards one another to be anything other than who we were. Alice accepted me in my entirety, and never asked me to be anything more than I was or to step outside of my comfort zone, and in return I did the same, never patronizing her or her actions, and knowing that Alice was just Alice and there was no changing her. We clicked, and that was something hard to find in a friend, for both of us. If soul mates were indeed real, then I believed that I had found mine in the form of my best friend, and doubted that would ever change.

"I just feel bad, we haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together these last few weeks, with finals and everything." Alice sighed, running her hand through her short pixy cut hair, the normal skip to her step that she always had faded a little as we continued to walk towards the center of the city, leaving the docks behind and heading towards our respective vehicles parked in a nearby parkade.

"Alice, you've been whining about seeing Jasper for weeks. He's been on a strict schedule since finals started, and this is his first night off in almost a month. You're going to drive yourself crazy if you don't go see him. Hell, you'll drive me crazy if you don't," I joked, trying to assuage the guilt I knew she was feeling. Jasper Whitlock was relatively new to forks, he and his cousin Rosalie Hale having moved into this dreary town of Forks early last year. He was a year older than us, and just like it had been with me and Alice, the first day she saw him in the cafeteria it was like she had struck by lighting, and judging by the dumbstruck look on his face when he saw her, the feeling was mutual. Everything else in the cafeteria ceased to exist for the two of them as Alice got up mid meal and walked across the room to the frozen blond. They had been together ever since.

"I know," she whined, perking up a bit as her thoughts drifted back to her blue-eyed beau. "I just wish he wouldn't push himself so hard, you know?" Shaking her hands back and forth in front of her face she rambled on. "He's going to get into Harvard Law, he's got the best grades in the entire school, I just wish he wouldn't work himself sick in order to do so."

"He's just determined, Alice. You know him," I said, doing my best impression of Jasper's southern drawl," You can't get anywhere in life darlin, if you don't put your heart into it."

A grin broke out on Alice's face at my terrible accent and she shoved lightly at my shoulder in reproach. "If Jasper ever heard you talk like that, you'd end up locked in a room with an etiquette teacher faster than you could say ma'am."

"I just don't know how you can put up with all that southern gentleman nonsense all day long," I chuckled. "I mean how many forks do you need to use at dinner? And don't get me started on you having to sit and wait for him to open doors for you. That would drive me insane."

"I like his manners," Alice defended. "It means his mama brought him up right."

"To each their own I guess."

"And besides," Alice whispered conspiratorially, tossing me a wink. "He's not always a gentleman."

"Oh, god Alice," I groaned, covering my face with the palms of my hands. "I do not need to hear about your and Jasper's sex life, okay?"

"Suit yourself," she cackled, relishing in my discomfort. Shaking my head at her antics we walked the rest of the way to the parkade in relative silence, small smiles playing on both of our faces. We found our cars parked side by side, her sleek yellow Mercedes making my ancient red truck look even more undesirable than it normally did. I didn't dislike it, on the contrary actually, I loved that old beat up truck. It had been a gift for me from my dad on my sixteenth birthday; he had bought it off of his old friend Billy Black, got it fixed up and handed me the keys tat very morning. Over the years we had lived on a tight budget; don't get me wrong, my brother and I wanted for nothing, but we didn't have any extra cash to spend on extravagant purchases either. Living on a small-town Police Chiefs salary was not easy, so waking up to find a vehicle that was just for me had made me cherish the gift even more. It definitely wasn't the prettiest, or the quietest, you could hear the engine a mile away, but it was mine, and I loved every inch of that truck.

"Go, get out of here," I told Alice as we walked up next to the two vehicles giving her a slight swat to the shoulder before gathering her up in a quick hug.

"What are you going to do?" Alice asked, unlocking her car with her fob, the flash of her tail lights bright in the dim evening.

"I think I'll go hit up that used book store just down the street," I said, hooking my thumb over my shoulder in said stores general direction. "I can kill a few hours in there easily."

Alice looked around nervously, shifting her weight on her feet in uncertainty. "I don't like the thought of leaving you alone down here especially when it's so late."

"Don't worry about it Alice," I reassured her. "It's Port Angles, not New York, nothings going to happen to me here. I'll just hit the book store until they close up, and then I'll take my time driving home. That should give you enough time to hit up Jasper for some much-needed stress relief," I jested, waggling my eyebrows at her in hopes to set her at ease. It worked and she chuckled along with me.

"Okay, okay. Just remember not to get home before eleven, that way your dad can corroborate our story that we were here together 'til everything closed down if my parents get suspicious."

"I know the drill, Ali. We've only done this how many dozens of time?" I teased.

"Thanks again, Bella," Alice said giving me one last hug before opening her car door and slipping inside. The engine started with a purr that made me more than a little envious as the car slipped smoothly out of it's parking spot before stopping briefly beside me as she rolled down the driver's side window.

"Text me when you're on your way home, that way I know your safe," she pleaded gently.

"What's with you tonight, Alice?" I asked in concern. Alice was always worried about me and my safety, I seemed to be more accident prone than the average person, my hospital records being more than enough proof of that, but this seemed a little more excess than her usual concern.

"I'm not sure," she mumbled, squinting her eyes as if that would give her more insight into what ever was bothering her. "Something just feels off tonight."

"If I makes you feel better, I'll text you," I relented, smiling when she nodded in satisfaction. "Now go, have fun and get laid." I stepped back from the car and gently patted the roof in a firm send off.

"You know it!" Alice yelled back at me as she finally took off, waving her arm out the car window in farewell as she drifted out of sight. Letting out a deep breath I squared my shoulders and shook off the uneasy feeling that had been growing in my shoulders during the last bit of our conversation and turned to walk in the opposite direction towards the old used book store that was just down the block.

Benson's Books was an old mom and pop shop that had been in their family for generations, or so I had been told. It was run completely by the Benson family, and because of that it was one of my favorite shops in Port Angeles, and I always made sure I had time to stop in whenever I was in the area. The book store itself was not very large, the size of one of the classrooms at Forks High School at most, but it was filled to the brim with dozens of bookshelf's and tables stacked with paperbacks and hardcovers until you could barely see the surfaces they laid on. It was a book lovers dream, and it always made me feel at ease when I walked through the doors. The little bell that was poised above the door rang as I walked inside, the smell of worn paper and ink accompanied by the aroma of coffee from the small self serve station at the back of the store flooded through me, setting me at ease and bringing a smile to my face.

A small thud followed by an 'oof' made me chuckle as George Benson, the current owner of the store and late night shift worker stood up from behind the old wood counter that served as their check out station, rubbing his head where he had obviously hit it a moment ago.

"Welcome to Benson's Bo- Oh! "George smiled as he realized it was me who had just walked in and not some new guest. "Bella! How have you been?"

Georges smile was contagious and I couldn't help but return his full-mouthed grin. At forty-three years old George looked good for his age, his light brown hair was streaked with a few strands of grey and his chestnut eyes crinkled as he smiled. A four o'clock shadow covered his normally clean kept face and his lean figure was draped in a white long sleeved shirt which he had rolled up to his forearms and brown slacks that were a bit faded from age and wear. He wore the traditional uniform of Benson's Books, a green apron with the stores logo printed on the front; an Owl perched precariously on top of a pile of books with the stores name written in script beneath it.

"I've been good," I told him, leaning lightly against the counter. "Finals are almost finished, so me and Alice are taking a bit of a break this weekend."

"Well good for you. Knowing you, you probably did great," he chided, giving me a slight wink before turning back to his never ending project; unpacking books. "Well, you don't need me to show you around this old place. Give me a holler if you need anything."

"Thanks, George."

Turning back to the shelves I let myself wander through the tight aisles that flowed through the small space like a maze. I wasn't looking for anything in particular really, grabbing the occasional title that jumped out at me, but more so just letting myself get lost in the smell and atmosphere that all bookstores seemed to have. It was a calmness that I rarely found anywhere else, and being surrounded by books, the physical product of so many people's imaginations and hard work gave it an almost surreal feeling.

The bell above the door chimed and I heard George greet the new customer with his usual friendly welcome as I flipped through a collection of Edgar Allen Poe poems that had managed to catch my eye. I normally wasn't a fan of depressing and dark poetry, but for some reason Poe had managed to claw himself a soft spot inside of me with his stories and stanzas. Reading through some of my favorites I felt an itch on the back of my neck, making my hair stand up straight in warning. Tearing my gaze away from the faded and slightly yellowing pages of the book, I looked up to find the new patron standing at the other end of the aisle I was currently occupying.

He seemed inconspicuous enough, flipping through a worn-out copy of War and Peace, but the way he held himself, almost like a predator who knows its being watched, coiled tight, ready to strike in a single moment if need be, left me feeling uneasy. His face was obscured, the collar of his wind breaker and his worn out blue ball cap hiding most of his profile from my view. Long blond hair was tied back in a low pony tail at the base of his neck and his hands looked worn and cracked, callouses covering most of his fingers. This stranger had done nothing to alarm me, but suddenly I felt like I was being cornered, like a mouse who had just noticed a cat prowling behind them.

Trying not to be too obvious about it, I closed the book of poems and set it gently back on the shelf where I had found it and casually made my way out of the aisle we were both occupying. The other end of the aisle was blocked off by a mountain of unsorted books waiting to be placed in their proper places, so with a feeling of dread I walked past the man, trying to keep as much distance from his as I could, wrinkling my nose slightly in disgust as his musky cologne filled my nostrils and made my eyes water with its intensity. Goosebumps broke out on my arms, and I rubbed them gently as I made it into the main area of the store without him so much as looking up at me, and I chuckled a little at my sudden onset of paranoia.

Alice must be getting to me, I thought with a grimace as I quickly checked my phone for the time. It was nearing ten, and knowing that George would never close the store as long as someone was inside, I decide now was a good time to head out and drive back home. Port Angeles wasn't very far from Forks, but if I took it slow and maybe circled the block once or twice I would get home a little after eleven, which was Alice's and mines curfew.

Shouting out a goodbye to George I let myself out of the store, the bells ring suddenly cut off as the door closed completely behind me. It had become full dark while I was in my sanctuary, and with a small ball of trepidation growing in my gut I walked briskly down the street towards the parkade and the safety of my truck. For some reason, Alice's voice, clouded in concern rang in my head which only made my growing paranoia worse, and feeling a rush of adrenalin ran the last few feet to my truck. Scrambling for my keys in my jacket pocket I pulled them out in a rush, fumbling as I tried to get the key into the lock. It took me three times before I was successful and with a satisfying click the door opened and I crawled in, slamming the door shut behind me.

Hurriedly I scanned the surrounding area for signs of danger, letting out a shaky sigh as I realized the parkade was empty except for a few cars spotted across the lot and the occasional pigeon picking at discarded trash. Feeling kind of silly for getting worked up over nothing I shoved my keys into the ignition, starting my beast of a truck with a loud roar that probably startled anyone within hearing range. Letting the engine run for a few moments I dug out my phone from my other pocket, writing a quick text to let Alice know that I was on my way home.

 _ **In my truck now, I'm safe and heading home. Hope you're having a good time ;) -B**_

Grabbing my bag on the seat next to me where I had tossed it in my rush to get into the truck, I quickly dropped my cell phone inside hearing it click lightly against the can of pepper spray my dad had insisted on me carrying everywhere; 'just in case' he always said. For as long as I could remember my father had always been a little over protective of me, insisting I carry something for self defense should I ever need it, and seeing the physical reminder of his worry made me shake me head in both amusement and bafflement. Straightening up I turned to my right, reaching for the strap of the seat belt only to stop dead in my tracks, my hand lifted half way towards the strap of fabric as I came face to face with the same man from the book store. He stood at my driver's side door, his face almost pressed up against my window, an evil sneer on his thin cracked lips exposing slightly yellow and sharp looking teeth. Dark blue eyes, partially concealed by shadows glinted menacingly back at me as my gaze met his for the first time.

Adrenalin raced through me and my heart began to pound as I frantically reached for the lock button on my door, realizing that in my haste I had forgotten to re-lock the door once I had gotten inside the truck. He beat me to it, yanking open the driver's side door and forcing his bulk between it and myself. Acting on instinct alone I reached out, trying to force him out of the way trying to get him to leave anyway I could. I kicked out, feeling the heel of my left foot connect with the solid flesh of his thigh with a satisfying sound as he attempted to climb inside the truck cabin with me. Letting out a small grunt of pain he lost his footing for a moment, and I used it as an opportunity to shove my entire body weight against his side, lashing out with everything I had.

The man let out another curse as he stumbled backwards slightly, but he quickly regained his footing and before I had time to try and block it he lashed out with a closed fist connecting with a crack that left me breathless, pain exploded along the left side of my head. I felt my body slump, not quite going unconscious, but unable to focus as my vision blurred and I lost all connection to my body for long moments. Slumped against the seat I vaguely felt the blond man push me down the bench seat so I was propped up against the passenger side door. I heard the his door slam shut, my vision too fuzzy to decipher what was happening, and felt the truck jerk as he set it in gear and began to drive.

Slowly my senses started coming back to me as the pain in my head subsided a bit. My blurred vision began to dissipate and I could once again make out the lights of buildings and street lamps as we wove through the streets of the small city. My body began to shake as the adrenaline rushing through my veins set my body alight once more. I could hear the man swearing as he drove, complaining about the noise my baby made as we raced past the outskirts of Port Angeles and how the engine refused to speed up past 80 Mph, no matter how hard he tried to coax it to go faster.

Groaning I brought my hand up to my head, wincing as it brought a fresh shock of pain accompanied by a wave of nausea. Feeling slickness beneath my fingers I pulled my hand back to discover the pale skin of my hand stained scarlet with blood. _My scalp must have been split from that hit,_ I thought to myself. Feeling all to calm about this situation at the moment I realized that I must be going into a state of shock, and I numbly turned to look at the man that had now become my captor. He was staring back at me, his face calculating as he watched me examine him. The reek of his cologne had started to fill the cabin and I had to fight off the urge to vomit as it overwhelmed my already tossing stomach.

It took me two tries to get my mouth to cooperate and form the words that had been racing through my mind since the moment I regained mental function. My voice cracked as I rasped out, "Where are you taking me?"

"On a magical adventure to the wold of Narnia," he seethed. His voice was as sharp as his words, deep and full of the promise of violence. The baseball cap he had been wearing must have fallen off in our scuffle and his hair was slightly mused, but he looked no worse for wear and I berated myself for having not being able to inflict more damage to the bastard.

"What do you want?" I asked this time, trying a different tactic. "I don't have much money, but I'll give you whatever I have. I'll give you everything. You can even have the truck!" He didn't respond this time, just kept on driving down the highway, seemingly ignoring me.

"Just let me go," I tired again. "I wont call the police, I wont say a word. Just let me go and you'll never have to see me again." I couldn't seem to stop myself from rambling, my mouth was on auto pilot saying the same things over and over again. I pleaded with him to let me go, to just take what he wanted and leave me be. Finally he seemed to lose his patience, and just like the first time I barely had time to flinch before he backhanded me across the face leaving my ears ringing and my lip split. Blood filled my mouth and I gagged at the taste. I had never liked the taste or smell, or hell, even the sight of blood made me unbelievably queasy, and it took everything in me not to start heaving right then and there.

"Would you just shut the hell up you stupid bitch!" He rage lifting his hand again in warning this time. "Just keep your whore mouth shut, unless you want another one."

Shaking, I huddled against the passenger door trying to keep as much distance between me and the bastard as I could. Trying to calm myself down I took long, deep breaths, holding them for a few moments then letting them go slowly. _Focus Bella,_ I told myself. _There has to be a way out of this._ Scanning the inside of my truck as discreetly as possible, I felt my stomach drop as I realized there was nothing here that I could use as a weapon. Looking out the window I knew there was no chance that I could try jumping for it. We were going too fast and my head would be splattered all over the pavement if I dared try, and hope began to be a distant memory for me as I realized my chances of getting out of this in once peace was seeming less and less likely.

We sat in silence for a long while after that; he was to focused on driving to pay me much attention, much to my great relief. I could feel something digging into my side, and what was once only a minor discomfort was slowly starting to become a real pain, and I shifted slightly in my seat, trying not to draw undo attention to myself. After a few moments, I realized it was my purse. Shock, followed closely by a renewal of hope raced through me as I concluded that he had forgotten to take it away from me after our struggle. Trying to be as discreet as possible I reached out with my right hand, keeping it out of his line of sight, and felt around inside of my bag.

Triumph raced through me as my hand clasped around my cell phone and trying to hide my pleasure I gently slipped it into the side pocket of my jacket. I couldn't use it just yet, I would need better visualization in order to dial or text anyone, and the moment he saw me try, it would be out of my hands faster than I could say 'bastard.' But my phone wasn't my only advantage, I remembered, grinning internally. Reaching back into my purse I clasped my hand around the cool metal of the pepper spray can, and I made a mental note to tell my father thank you, and never complain about his over protectiveness again. The irony was not lost on me that the very item that I had scoffed at only minutes before could very well be my one chance at salvation this night. As stealthily as I could I slid the small metal can up the sleeve of my jacket, my hand poised and ready to go on the trigger, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

It came only a little while later, my beacon of hope taking form as a sign on the side of the road reading: City of Forks, Next Exit. My breath sped up as I realized it would have to be now or never. Home was only a few miles up the road from that exit; it was my best chance of getting out of this in once peace. With one last breath to strengthen my resolve, I waited until the exit ramp was in view, then I pounced. Lunging across the bench seat I grabbed the wheel in my left hand, jerking it out of the mans startled grasp. He recovered quickly swearing as he tried to wrestle the steering wheel out of my hand with one arm and trying to push me back with the other. With a yell of desperation, I brought up my right hand until it was as close to is face as I could get it before pressing down on the nozzle with all my strength. Pepper spray shot out at full force and the man screamed in pain, bringing his hands up to protect his face, relinquishing his hold and giving me full control of the wheel.

Steering a speeding vehicle one handed from the passenger seat was not as easy of a task as I had thought it would be, and instead of turning onto the exit ramp as I had planned, the truck careened to the side, slipping off of the road and landing unceremoniously in a ditch along the side of the highway. The impact flung me from my seat and I ended up on the floor of the cabin my head throbbing from where it had hit the dash board upon impact, my back braced against the passenger side door. The engine gave off one last desperate sputter before it died entirely, the sudden silence was jarring. The urge to take flight consumed me as I heard the man groan from the driver's seat, his head bleeding profusely from where he had smacked it against the driver's side window, large spider web cracks originating out from the point of impact.

Reaching a hand blindly behind me I felt along the top of the door ledge until I found the lock bolt and pulled it upwards to disengage it. Moving as quickly as I could I yanked the door open, tumbling out the side of the truck as the urge to run took over every cell of my body. Gasping I pulled myself to my feet, letting out a yelp of surprise as my right ankle buckled beneath me in a wave of fiery pain. Looking down in fear I saw that the joint was swollen and bleeding, staining both my white sock and purple sneakers in bright crimson. I had sprained my ankle enough times to know what I was looking at and cursed under my breath as I forced myself up onto my feet once more. Running on a sprained ankle was not what I would have preferred, but I had little choice but to do so now. Gritting my teeth against the pain that shot up my leg with each step I hobbled towards the edge of the forest that lined the highway, seeking refuge in it's dark depths.

Not risking to stop and use my phone just yet I hobbled as quickly as I could through the forest, listening for any signs of pursuit from my captor. A part of me hoped that he would find me too much trouble to deal with at this point and just get the hell out of there, but a larger part knew that that would not be the case. Being the daughter of a police chief I hard learned a few things about how people worked and one fact rang out above all others at this particular moment. I could hear my fathers voice in my head as he lectured me about survival skills like he often did when we were out fishing or hell, just on a long road trip to some event.

 _Listen to me Bella_ , his gruff voice rang in my ears. _A man who wears a mask is a man who has something to hide from you, and while they can be dangerous, it is the person who does you harm that does not wear a mask that you have to be most cautions of. A man who shows you his face means that ether he has nothing to lose at this point, or that he does not intend to let you live long enough to tell anyone what you have seen._

Shaking with both fear and adrenaline I forced myself onward, more memories of my father's lessons springing to mind. _Never run in a straight line if you are being chased,_ his voice admonished. _Zigzag, make your trail as complicated as possible. It's too easy to track a straight trail, so don't give them that advantage._

I took a sharp left and headed in that direction for a while before making another sharp turn, trying to put as much distance between me and the truck as quickly as I could. I knew the general direction I would have to take if I wanted to make it back to Forks, but I had to be cautions; the forest was vast and wide and went on for miles and I could just as easily get myself lost in this forest if I didn't pay close attention to which direction I was going. Stopping briefly I leaned against a nearby tree, the rough bark digging into my skin through the light fabric of my jacket, I tried to catch my breath and checked to make sure I was still heading the right way. That's when I heard it, the quite sounds of pursuit coming from the forest behind me. The footsteps were muffled and still a little way off, but I knew it was him and an icy wave of fear raced up my spine.

I stumbled over to a fallen tree not too far from where I stood and crouched down behind it. It was large enough that I was able to fully conceal myself within its fallen branches, and trying to calm my breathing I listened for his footsteps. Slowly they came closer and within moments I could spot the blond of his hair glinting in the moonlight as he made his way ever closer. Covering my mouth in an attempt to muffle my panting breaths I huddled down, making myself as small as possible as he walked passed my hiding place. He stood only feet away from where I crouched for long moments, panting hard while holding a hand to his injured head. I watched as he scoured the area, freezing as his eyes slowly traveled over where I lay fearing that he would spot me, but his gaze lingered only for a moment before moving on. After what seemed like an eternity he finally began to move on, his footsteps receding further into the forest until even the sounds of that were gone, and I was alone.

Letting out a sob of relief I slunk to the ground, taking a brief moment to rest before digging out my cell phone from my jacket pocket. I tried my best to hide the light from my screen with my other hand as I punched in my code and opened the call screen. Quickly I dialed 911, swearing when an error message popped up on my screen telling me I had no service.

"Fuck!" I swore, slamming my fist against the forest floor. Tears welled in my eyes as despair took over as I lied there on the cold hard ground. _Get up, Bella._ My dads voice rang out in my head once again, urging me to my feet. _You do not give up, you hear me! You keep going until your last breath, you hold on as long as you can, and only when you are safe are you allowed to give in._

Wiping my tears away with the back of my hand, I gathered my resolve once more. My dad did not raise a quitter, and I would not stop until I was safe at home once more. Groaning I pushed myself to my feet, a second wind giving me new strength to go on. Slowly I pulled myself free from the fallen branches of the tree, wincing as my ankle twinge in protest as I began the long walk back towards the direction of home.

I don't know how long I walked for, time seemed to be slipping away from me as I trudged along with a single gaol in mind; find my way home. What seemed like hours passed before I noticed what was once just solid forest had slowly begun to give way and form worn down paths. Trails, like little guardian angles, let me know that I was closing in on the outskirts of Forks; the hunting trails and hiking paths clear markers for which way to go. Nearly sobbing in relief, I set forward with renewed gusto, following the twists and turns of a path I was intimately familiar with, knowing just where it would take me and that safety was only minutes away.

I didn't see the dark shadow that was waiting for me a few feet down the path, didn't notice the hand the reached out to grab me by my jacket until it was too late and I was already in his grasp, his too strong arms wrapped around me in a death grip, pinning my arms to my side. Letting out a terrified shriek I struggled to get away, kicking and lashing out with everything I had. Remembering the self defense lessons my dad had taught me I lashed out with my elbow, feeling it dig deep into his sternum behind me and my soul leapt in satisfaction as the man crumpled at the waist, his grip loosening enough that I was able to shrug out of the jacket he had in his grasp and slip away.

I ran.

The pain in my ankle was quickly forgotten as I raced down the pathway, my feet flying beneath me with my chance at almost within my reach. A large weight tackled me from behind and I went sprawling to the ground, the man an unmovable force above me as he pinned me beneath him, crushing me between his bulk and the unrelenting forest floor.

"You fucking bitch!" He spat, and I jerked when he grabbed me by my upper arms and flipped me around so I was no longer face down on the ground, but looking up into his crazed cerulean eyes. "You are one slippery brat, you know that." He chuckled, and I felt a new wave of fear flood through me as his eyes changed and lost that burning desire to beat me senseless as another form of desire filled them with a new darkness. "Naughty girls need to be taught a lesson," he sneered as he brought one hand up to cup my breast, the other gathering my wrists in his tight grip, keeping both my hands pinned above my head.

I recoiled violently at his touch and my struggle to escape became desperate. I bit and screamed and thrashed, but despite all of my attempts all it seemed to do was amuse him even more. "You're a feisty one, aren't you? I'm going to enjoy this very much, you little cunt." He murmured before crashing his lips down on my own. I froze at the first touch of his mouth against mine, my mind unable to process what was really happening. His mouth was rough, his lips cracked, and as he increased the force of his mouth against mine and a groan tore from his throat, sanity returned in a rush and I struggled in earnest. I gagged as he forced his tongue passed my clamped lips and fighting back the urge to vomit at the unwanted invasions, I did the only thing I could think of; I bit down as hard as I could until I tasted blood.

Rearing back with a cry of pain the blond man stared down at me in rage, one hand clasped over his mouth as he watched me spit out the small chuck of his tongue I had managed to tear from his mouth. It was then that he finally snapped, his fist cracked forward like a rocket, hitting me in the side of the head once more and I all too gratefully slipped away into blissful darkness.

I had always had a good imagination when I was a kid; I could spend hours playing by myself in my backyard in Phoenix, creating vast worlds and going on grand adventures. I was good at pretending, and when I next awoke, I pretended that the whole ordeal had just been a dream. I pretended that I was actually safe at home, warm in bed with my father and brother sleeping just down the hall just a few seconds away should I need them. I pretended that I didn't feel the cold forest floor beneath my half naked body, pretended that I couldn't feel the fresh droplets of rain hitting my bare legs as another rainfall fell over the city; but most of all I pretended that I couldn't hear the grunts of the man on top of me as he pinned me down to the ground and forced his way inside my body over and over again, until all I could feel was an all-consuming pain as my virginity was ripped away.

When he was finally finished, I pretended that I was dead, and I wished that this would be the end of it and I could just fade away into nothingness and never have to think or feel anything again. I heard the jingle of his belt buckle as he zipped himself back up and fastened everything back into place. Curling myself into the fetal position I tried to cover myself the best I could with what was left of my t-shirt, hating myself for letting him know how badly he had destroyed me, but unable to leave myself that exposed in front of him as I heard him chuckle from above me. My eyes were clamped shut, and I felt him crouch over me and I shuddered as his rank breath danced along the exposed skin of my shoulder.

"I think you've learned your lesson, haven't you little girl?"

When I didn't answer right away he grabbed me by the chin, yanking my head up in a painful jerk, causing my eyes to snap open in fear to look upon him once again.

"Answer me, little girl. Did you learn your lesson?"

I hated myself even as the word left my mouth in a strangled cry.

"Yes."

"Good," he smirked, letting my face go abruptly so my head dropped unceremoniously back to the ground with a harsh thud that left my vision spinning once more. "Then there is just one more thing to finish up here."

I didn't seem him reach for the pocket knife, nor did I see him lunge forward. Excruciating pain exploded in my left side as the knife stabbed deep into my stomach, and I saw the satisfied smirk upon his face as he yanked it back out, tearing a harsh scream from my throat. I watched as he wiped the blade off with my torn underwear, tossing them aside once he was satisfied the blade was clean before snapping it shut and placing it in his back pocket. Blowing me a kiss he finally turned around, a slight limp in his step as he disappeared down the dark path, whistling an old sea shanty that carried back to me in his wake.

A mixture of relief and despair battled within me; relief that he was gone and that I was finally alone. Despair because I knew that the only reason he had left me they way he had, without a care in the world was because he was sure I would not survive his attentions. My vision began to grow hazy and my body became chilled. Convulsions too harsh to be called shivers racked my body and I clutched my hands to my stomach where the knife had penetrated, felt the warm gush of blood poor over my fingers as I tried to ease the burning pain spreading through my body.

 _I will not let you kill me,_ I thought to myself, _that man will not have the satisfaction of taking my life. Not tonight_. It took everything I had to rollover onto my knees, and even more to get myself to my feet. Light headed and woozy, the pain in my body the only thing anchoring me to consciousness I staggered forward, one slow step at a time, my father's words urged me on. _Fight 'til your last breath._

Eons passed as I continued to limp onward, the low hanging branches of nearby trees acting as helpful hands as I used them to help drag myself through the trees, one agonizing step at a time. Then, the trees were gone, and in front of me was the familiar outline of a large manor house against the dark clouds of the night sky. I had spent uncountable nights in that house, had explored its hallways, ate in it's kitchen, played hide and seek in the very forest I was now desperately trying to escape, and now it stood like the sanctuary it had always been for me.

I pushed myself to take another step forward, and another, and another. I slinked ever closer to that house, my last reserves of energy taking me across the vast expanse of the empty yard, finally failing me as I reached the first step of the porch where I collapsed, no longer able to go on. My vison had all but left me, the bright light emanating from a room just a little further down the deck was the only thing I could make out. That single pinprick of light was what I focused on, what I directed all my remaining strength on as I lifted my arm and slammed my hand against the wood of the porch as hard as I could, just as the light was extinguished.

* * *

 **So was this worth the wait? Let me know, reviews make me want to update faster ;)**


End file.
